Chapter 13
The spotlight would be on her all day. Catherine didn't like being the center of attention in this way, but she had no choice. The people expected a coronation, so a coronation they'd have.
She wore a plain, white, shapeless dress that would be covered by ceremonial robes just before leaving for the procession to the Cathedral.
They'd rehearsed the coronation as much as they could, but much of it was simply instructions.
Tradition said they couldn't actually practice the investiture or consecration.
Fortunately, those in charge of making sure she ended up where she was supposed to had been on hand for her mother's coronation as well.
They hadn't been in charge, but had been a part of it.
One of the biggest things she didn't care for was how she'd been alone for over twenty-four hours already and would only have minimal interactions with anyone until the ceremony itself, and nothing of a remotely personal nature until after the return to the palace.
She would see Jacob, speak with him briefly but only for ceremonial reasons. Same with the rest of her family.
She would have help with the robes, but they wouldn't speak to her.
Catherine didn't understand the rationale. It was supposedly so she could spend the entire time focused on the monumental responsibility she was taking on, and on her faith, and where her help would ultimately come from. Talking to her would apparently interrupt her communion with the Creator.
She'd grumbled about it to her father a couple of days earlier. He'd empathized but pointed out she had a choice in the matter. There was no legal requirement for her to spend the time alone.
But she hadn't had a choice, not really. The people expected her to adhere to the same customs as her ancestors before her.
So, she'd done it.
As much as she liked spending time alone, as much as she believed herself to be an introvert, it had been disconcerting as well. Maybe she wasn't as introverted as she believed.
Or maybe it was that she had no choice in the matter.
If she'd spent time alone like that because she wanted to, that would be different than because she felt she had to.
The door to the chamber where she'd spent the time alone opened. A footman held the door and bowed as she passed him.
The corridors to the throne room where she'd receive the robes were lined with staff members in their finest uniforms, likely brand new and freshly starched.
They all bowed or curtsied as she passed.
The gauntlet of sorts also meant she couldn't get lost and wander away from where she was supposed to be going.
Two more footmen waited at the side doors to the throne room. They opened the doors as she reached them.
The line of staff members had ended but she'd been told repeatedly where to go.
Catherine stopped in front of the Monarch's Seat and turned ninety degrees to the right with military precision. She stared at the primary doors, now in front of her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see people approaching.
Her youngest two full siblings placed a belt of sorts around her waist and fastened it. Her father and eldest two siblings together placed the robe around her shoulders, hooking the button in the front.
The Prime Minister stopped directly in front of her, bowed deeply, then handed her the antique scepter. The most senior member of the Council did the same but handed her a rapier.
No one said a word.
Then they all left.
The only ones left in the room were the two footmen as she tried to put the rapier into the scabbard on the belt.
With a grunt of frustration, she carefully set the scepter down and used both hands to maneuver the rapier into place. Once she'd picked the scepter back up, she took a deep breath and sent a prayer winging heavenward.
Even at the time she didn't know what the prayer was, what words it might have consisted of. Instead, she was fairly sure she just flung a million different emotions to the heavens and trusted they would be understood on the other end.
The two footmen somehow managed to give her the impression of a sympathetic smile, while at the same time not breaking their stance or solemn look.
When the doors were opened, she walked straight out them and down the sweeping main staircase to the main doors of the palace. These didn't lead to the portico, but would be visible through the gates to the crowds beyond.
She'd already been on camera from the time she left the throne room, but now she'd be visible to actual people.
Outside, more footmen waited to help her into the open top carriage.
At least she knew heaters had been camouflaged into the ancient carriage. She wouldn't freeze, so that was something to be thankful for.
This time Catherine wouldn't be smiling and waving. She was to continue pondering the gravity of the responsibility she was taking on.
The streets were incredibly quiet for the number of people that lined them. She could clearly hear the clip clop of hooves and the other sounds the horses and the ancient carriage made.
When she reached the cathedral, yet another footman helped her from the carriage.
An unseen orchestra played a slow, almost melancholy, piece of music. She walked up the stairs and inside at a slow measured pace, keeping time with the music.
The atmosphere in the cathedral continued to be solemn though a few people sent small smiles her way.
She saw her family long before she could read their expressions.
Jacob didn't even try to control his. Neither did her parents.
Her siblings seemed to understand they were supposed to remain serious, but she suspected they would have preferred to give some other expression.
As she passed them all, they bowed or curtsied.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur for Catherine. She presumed she made the appropriate responses at the right times.
Jacob and her father both individually swore their allegiance followed by the rest of her immediate family, including Mumeleine and the younger half-siblings. The rest of those gathered did so as a group - except the foreign guests.
The ceremonial robe had been removed and replaced with another one. This was was heavier, amethyst, and trimmed with fur. At the end of the ceremony, Jacob was given a similar one, though not as long or ornate as the one she wore.
The Monarch's Crown sat on her head. She had to be careful not to move her head too much or it would fall off. Members of the honor guard preceded her down the aisle as she exited. Members of the different branches of the military helped with the train of her robe.
Jacob, his own robe carried by members of the military as well, came behind her.
After they exited, the same footman helped her into another carriage with Jacob moving in behind her and taking the seat next to her.
Sitting in one of these robes was one of the least comfortable things she'd ever done. There was too much volume for them to be arranged in a way that made sense, especially with Jacob nearby with a robe of his own. At least she no longer wore the rapier or carried the scepter.
Despite her discomfort, the mood was decidedly different for this portion of the day. Cheers now sounded from all sides as the carriage made its way back through the streets toward the palace.
Now, she and Jacob smiled and waved. She blew kisses as she had the week before.
Hidden from sight of the public, he held her hand under the voluminous robes.
It gave her a sense of comfort and support she wouldn't have expected.
The ride seemed to go faster on the way back than it had earlier in the day.
Because she wasn't alone? Or because of the difference in mood?
Or did the horses actually go faster than they had before?
Whatever the rationale, she looked forward to the end of the day. If the route went faster, the day would end sooner, wouldn't it?
Intellectually, she knew that wasn't true. The festivities would finish at the same time regardless of how fast this portion of the day went.
The cheers continued to grow in volume as they turned down the last stretch before reaching the gates. She and her family would appear on the same balcony over the gate as they had for the wedding celebration.
Then there would be a bit of down time for her to change and do some things she didn't quite remember.
After that, the evening celebrations would begin.
Maybe, just maybe, Catherine would get to bed before midnight.
She didn't hold her breath.